Call me an insensitive asshole (in fact, you probably already have 1,000 times over), but recently my agitation has been building with a particular category of stupid people: stupid fat people who constantly discuss dieting and exercising and invest in gimmicky weight loss ploys, yet somehow just continue to expand. All of a sudden, I’m pretty much surrounded by people who fit this definition—and that’s about the only thing they fit into.
Take, for instance, this male associate that’s a couple of years ahead of me. I remember what he looked like when I was a summer associate, and since then, he’s clearly gained between 25 and 30 pounds—and with each week that passes, he seems a little bigger and more bloated. Obviously there isn’t anything unusual or even noteworthy about an overworked big firm lawyer adding girth. Or developing Aeron-chair ass after a year or two of seeking solace from the billable hour daily grind by indulging in high calorie take-out food on weeknights and weekend binge drinking followed by late night char-dogs and cheese fries at the Weiners Circle and/or burritos at LaBamba.
But here’s how this guy takes it to the next level and elevates himself into a realm that merits criticism: all he talks about is working out and dieting. In literally every conversation, he finds a way to mention that he’s planning on hitting the gym after work, or he rubs and stretches one of his legs and complains that he recently strained something working out. And here’s the hysterical thing: he has a multi-location membership at the most expensive gym in town, yet the only workout he ever does is 30-45 minutes on an elliptical. In other words, he probably burns more calories thinking and talking about going to the gym than he does when he’s actually at the gym.
When he has to go out of town for depositions, he makes a big scene out of demanding that his secretary confirm that there’s an elliptical in the hotel fitness center before he allows her to make a reservation for him. And speaking of his secretary—every six weeks or so, it seems that he buys a new detox/weight loss “nutrition system” online, and then he forces her to organize the pills and potions and powders and bars into daily servings for him. However, I’ve never actually seen him consume any of it, and the ghosts of all of his fad diets are collecting dust in various cabinets and file drawers throughout his office. In fact, last week his secretary came into my office, shut the door conspiratorially, and admitted to me that all along she’s been stealing and consuming the supplements that actually look legit from his nutrition programs as a means of sneaky payback for the insult of having to do shit like that for him in the first place.
And notwithstanding all of this fuss—or, perhaps, because of it—he’s never lost a single pound. In fact, he’s the kind of person that you can actually hear getting fatter. (Side note: I recently hacked into this Catholic dating website that he told me he’s on, and I discovered that he described his body type as “athletic” in his profile. So there’s also that kind of delusion in the mix.)
Now let’s move on to two more examples. As excited as I was to finally be moved from my shitty shared interior office into a solo exterior office with a window, there was also a downside—my office is sandwiched between two female associates who are the undisputed heavyweight champions of the office. I’m not exaggerating in the least when I say that they evoke a strong resemblance to the late 80’s WWF tag team the Twin Towers—minus the facial hair.
These two biggies are best friends (naturally), and they constantly visit one another’s offices throughout the day to discuss (and consume) food. It seems that they’re constantly shoveling baked goods and candy and fried crap (e.g. Hardee’s, which I didn’t even know was still in business but somehow they used their Cheddar Bisc-dar to locate one nearby), washed down with enormous syrupy Starbucks concoctions dripping with whipped cream and caramel sauce. And yet, they’re constantly complaining to one another about the fact that they’re unable to lose weight even though they’ve been “really watching it and eating good lately”—a state of affairs which they both blame on their “thyroid issues.” Right, because if only their thyroids functioned properly, they would somehow be able to defy the laws of physics and lose weight despite consuming something like 8,000 calories each day.
Oh, and every once in awhile they feel the need to awkwardly linger in my office doorway and invite me on trips to Walgreen’s for “sweet chocolatey treats.” I always decline, and they always respond by sneering, “Well, I guess that’s why you’re so skinny,” as if I’m some sort of holier than thou jerk for not wanting to plug up my insides with Milk Duds while chained to my desk chair. And every summer, they engage in this ridiculous ritual of strapping on Skechers Shape Ups and taking 20 minute long walks on Michigan Avenue—an activity that probably burns 17 calories total, yet they always chatter excitedly about how they just “walked off lunch” when they return from their futile daily pilgrimages. I’m just waiting for one of them to fracture a hip.
I guess what I’m getting is that I don’t understand all of this nonsense. These people have brains and are capable of simple math and understanding the principle that, if you consume more calories than you should every day, you will gain weight, whereas if you consume less, you will lose weight. That is the rule, and it’s crazy basic, but somehow it continues to elude them. I mean, these three associates are able to successfully ferret out needle in a haystack case law to support complex arguments in summary judgment briefs, yet they’ve got themselves convinced that taking a daily walk or a spin on an Elliptical whilst pounding down five times the number of calories required for weight loss each day should be more than enough to melt the excess pounds off their flabby, covered in fat rolls bodies.
Although, maybe I could spin these observations into some sort of business idea. If fat people are this stupid and desperate to lose weight without legitimate effort, there’s gotta be a way to make a fortune in there somewhere (too bad somebody else already came up with the Shake Weight). Magic thyroid-fixing beans, anyone? Perhaps this will be my ticket out of Big Law . . . finally!